


Hound's Harem

by Camfield



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Birth, Double Penetration, M/M, Multi, Public Sex, Sticky Sex, Tactile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-18
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-31 09:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camfield/pseuds/Camfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Universe: G1<br/>Characters:  Cliffjumper/Bumblebee/Beachcomber/Huffer/Hound, Mirage/Hound</p><p>Rating: Mature/NC17<br/>Warnings: MechPreg, Pregnany Sex, Public Sex, Multiple penetration!, Voyeurism, Birth, Sticky, Tactile</p><p>A/N: Sorry for Hound’s OCC!  I know how I felt at the end of my pregnancy, I can only imagine how he feels past his due date! Also, first time writing with a couple of these minibots.  :p</p><p> </p><p>Prompt - http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=9028318#t9028318</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hound's Harem

“It’s never going to come out!”

Cliffjumper smacked Huffer upside the head.

“Keep your damn trap shut, fragging idiot!”

 _“Guys, you all seriously need to calm down_.”

“What ‘Bee said.  All this shouting can’t be good for our harmony.”

Huffer fisted his hands at his sides and looked around at the closely gathered group.

“But it’s been two weeks since Ratchet said the little bit was due!  THAT CAN’T BE GOOD!” Huffer started pacing the floor.  “What if something is wrong?  I’m sure something is wrong, something is ALWAYS wrong.”

The clashing of EM fields was enough to send them all into a frazzled state.  Discordant emotions and subsonic tones were flooding their connections to each other.  Being as physically close as they were meant that everything was magnified, and Huffer could put out one hell of a discordant field.

Hound lay on his berth napping, though how with all the noise they were making no one knew, and uncomfortable looking.  His armor was gone from the pelvic girdle to his neck and his protoform was glistening with condensation that spoke on how hot the living metal was.  The large curve of his belly would move ever so slightly when the sparkling decided to try to stretch and claim that tiniest extra bit of space and Hound would let out a pained noise.  It hadn’t been this bad before, but being past his due date with the ever growing sparkling had stretched him to the max and made him hyper sensitive to touch.

“SEE!  He is in pain; it’s too big for him to keep carrying!  Sooner or later something is gonna bust and –“

“HUFFER!  Shut your goddamned mouth or I’ll shut it for you!”

“Chill ‘Jumper, you know he’s only worried.  It’s just how he expresses himself.”

“I swear to God if I have to hear any more of your ‘everyone is perfect the way they are’ speeches I’m going to find a way to make rainbow colored smoke come out of your aft whenever you open your mouth.”

“Guys I really, really think we need to calm down here.  None of this is going to help Hound and I really think-“

Hound made another miserable little noise, clasping a hand to his jutting belly as he tried to move into a semi comfortable position.  The minibots all froze at the movement, optics tracking the hand as it made to rub in slow circles over the stretched and sore metal.

“I really think we should be helping Hound feel better rather than fighting.”  Finished a tired sounding Bumblebee.

The minibots exchanged looks before moving over to Hound.  Hands gently rubbed pedes and legs, belly and back, arms, neck and helm.  Slowly the grimace on his face relaxed and Hound shifted into their hands, soft sighs of relief coloring the living space.

They were concentrated enough that when Mirage slipped through the door he had the rare pleasure of watching his admittedly ridiculous, though happy(-ish, no one knew if Huffer was ever truly happy), pseudo-family without interruptions.   It was so seldom that they were all in the same space without yelling or arguments that Mirage honestly couldn’t comprehend how they’d all managed their awkward relationship for as long as they had.

Still, in the spirit of togetherness…

“Ratchet had an idea that might speed up labor.”

His words were soft, but smug.  Like he had the golden ring and they were stuck with nickel plated charms.

“FINALLY. Not like it took Hound being in abject pain for him to decide to uphold his vows.”

“Huffer… can’t you just pick it up a little bit?”

“Mech, you need to just breathe.  Center yourself before you speak.”

“WE DON’T BREATHE!  How is that supposed to make him any less of a slagger anyway.”

Hound finally awoke amid the crush of arguing minibots. 

“Guys, I love you all.  Get off or I’ll shoot you.”

It was a scramble to move off Hound that resulted in curses and knees in places that were rather sensitive when someone got impatient.  When they finally settled themselves around the room Mirage spoke again, amusement coloring his rich voice.

“I’m happy you all have such good cooperation skills, Ratchet thinks we should use them on our lovely overstuffed Hound.”

Hound’s response was a rather dirty look and a middle finger.  “Call me overstuffed again, Mirage, and I’ll make a necklace out of your spike.”

Mirage’s affronted expression sparked a round of snickers from the minibots before he strode over to the berth and dropped gracefully at the end.  With a fingertip he traced the plating seams on Hound’s lower leg and pede, facial features turning smug at the small noises and squirmy movements his actions were causing.

“As I was saying, Ratchet believes that our expecting mate just needs an extra push the right direction.”

Cliffjumper, not surprisingly, was the first to get it.  Mouth spreading wide he joined Mirage and Hound on the berth, his hands sliding beside black as their touches turned from insubstantial to firm. 

“I do believe I like the way he thinks.”

Hound looked like he was trying to glare at them both, but between his substantial girth and the half stifled noises coming from his vocalizer it was more adorable than scary.

Bumblebee and Beachcomber grinned at each other, settling again on either side of Hound’s berth, hands taking up the ever delightful task of wrangling indeterminate sounds from their lover.  This was a happy habit, one they had often indulged in simply because the one thing they all agreed on was that Hound needed to be taken care of once in a while.  He was always the one looking after everyone else, helping whenever they asked, always available to lend an audial, and they made sure that Hound was nothing but catered to in this space.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.  Ratchet couldn’t have meant what you’re implying, are you sure you heard him right?”

Groans were shared before Cliffjumper whacked the back of Huffer’s hood.  “Why don’t you use your tongue for something more productive than talking, moron.”

Huffer vented, but joined the others on the berth.  He picked up one of Hound’s hands and laved his tongue over it, paying special attention to each joint as he locked eyes with Cliffjumper, mouth curling into a sneer even as arousal flared through his field to the rest of them.

One by one their fields bled into each other, layering on sensation after sensation after sensation.  What had been a pleasant background arousal now thrummed in a never ending circle with Hound in the middle, soaking it up with moans and gasps.  Shudders ran through the scout, his optics flickering wildly, and he twisted and jerked as much as his belly allowed, the hand not being teased by Huffer reaching out and clasping at nothing, trying to reach, trying to connect with another body.

When it hit Beachcomber’s helm the minibot nuzzled the palm, licking a stripe from the heel to the tip of the middle finger and sucking on the digit lightly.  Hound spasmed and jolted into overload, both hands ripping themselves from mouths to clutch at his gestation chamber, “AHHHhhhh!”.

His panel snapped open and a ripple passed over his stomach, hands pressed firm against the taut metal, as he grit his denta. 

“I’m going to kill you all when I have the energy I swear to Primus!”

There were relieved laughs all around.  Mirage was the first to move and shooed the other four aside before awkwardly scooping Hound up.  His model was _definitely_  not made for heavy lifting, but he’d make it to medbay.  “Let’s get him to Ratchet!  We have a sparkling to welcome!”

The minibots tumbled into the hallway, their excited bellows clearing a path as much as attracting new attention, and Mirage tried not to stumble as he followed after them. 

****0.o****

“Guess you were right doc, that certainly helped get him going!”

“Your abject faith in my abilities makes my millennia of hard work all worth it.”  Ratchet replied sardonically to Huffer before turning to Mirage.  “Now if you would stagger along this way…”

Mirage huffed, but followed to a medberth and deposited his heavy load with a wince.

“Hound, you know I love you with my entire spark, but I think I strained something getting you here.”

Hound turned a dark optic to the race car.  “If that was even the SLIGHTEST bit directed at me being fat I’m going to find a way to project your hologram prancing through the Ark singing dirty drinking songs.  NAKED.  Are we clear _darling_?”

 

Ratchet had a hand clapped over his mouth to stifle his snickers but Cliffjumper and Huffer had no such care.  They were bent over laughing while Bumblebee tried to keep his own giggles in and Beachcomber looked at them all with a helplessly amused grin.

Mirage huffed, but looked directly into Hound’s optics and spoke in his most sincere and dulcet voice, one he reserved for situations that usually involved his life being in danger.

“Hound, sweet, I would never stoop to something so base as degrading the process of creating our sparkling with flippant comments about your weight.  You look absolutely perfect.”

Cliffjumper’s howls of laughter rang through the room. 

“So all that mess about our ‘overstuffed’ mate was in our imaginations was it?  Primus Mirage, why don’t you just tell him how we all find him sexy, stuffed full and ripe with our spawn?  I know I’d tap that pregnant aft _any_ time he let me.”

Mirage’s face was a study in repose even as he gestured rudely out of Hound’s optic range.

****0.o****

“Ratchet, are you sure it’s supposed to take this long?”  Bumblebee was stroking the quivering abdominal metal through another contraction, worried optics locked onto Ratchet’s hands as they felt the inside of Hound’s valve.

“Hmmm.  Normally I’d let it go as long as it needs too, but with Hound already 2 weeks over we’re getting into dangerous territory here.  With such a large protoform in there it may not have the room to get into position, we may end up needing to operate.”

Hound pushed himself up on his elbows and glared at the both of them.  “No one slices me open unless they’re damn sure that is the only way we’re gonna make it.  Kapeesh?”

He thunked back down, wrapping a hand around Bumblebee’s wrist and placing it firmly against his spasming belly.

Ratchet snorted.  “Fine then.  You all might want to try overloading him again, see if we can’t entice his body to give the bit up.”  He moved around to Hound’s helm, wiping his fingers on a rag. “But if that doesn’t work, you can be sure I’ll be back over here with a knife, got it?”

This time it was Bumblebee who glared.  “You didn’t have to be so crude Ratchet.”

He was waved off as the medic walked to the other side of the bay.  “No one will be dying on my watch, brat, not even stubborn carriers.”

Hound’s response was cut off by a squeak as Huffer traced his spike cover’s seams. 

“Get it on with then?  I’m sure we can manage something.” 

****0.o****

Somehow word had gotten out that Hound was in the throes of labor (Probably perpetuated by _MIRAGE_ carrying him to the medbay) and nearly everyone not on duty took that as an invitation to visit the green scout.

Bluestreak had been the first out of the gate, slamming through the medbay doors with happily fluttering doorwings only to find Beachcomber with his helm between Hounds thighs.

He promptly wheeled around and ran back out, nearly crashing into other well wishers coming down the hallway.

“Oh!  Umm… you might not want to go in there right now.  Hound is… busy.”

The ‘ker-thunk’ of a lock engaging punctuated his flustered words before Bumblebee’s voice rang through.

“Don’t worry guys, you’ll all see them soon enough!”

****0.o****

Bumblebee laughed at the grumbles coming from the bots outside, turning back to where Beachcomber was gently thrusting into Hound’s valve.

“Might want to do that a little harder ‘Comber, I’m sure Hound isn’t in the mood for love-making right now.”

Beachcomber chuckled even as he picked up the pace, the medberth starting to move just slightly with his motions. 

“Frag that!  Let me up there ‘Comber!”

Cliffjumper hopped up and settled on top of Beachcomber’s thighs, angling his hips downward to slide his pressurized spike over the other minibot’s own.

“Primus ‘Jumper!  Warn a mech ‘fore you do that.”

A dirty smile was flashed over a red shoulder before Cliffjumper nudged and wiggled the tip of his spike into the already filled valve.  He waited until Beachcomber slid out before they moved back in together, slowly, going just a little further each time.  Beachcomber’s better leverage controlling the movement of both Cliffjumper and himself into that slick heat.

With each shallow thrust Hound vented, his legs spreading wider to try to accommodate their combined girth.   Even the pain of the contractions seemed less important as the two minibots continued to stretch his valve around themselves.  It was a slow burn, going nearly too painful before being given reprieve.  He almost didn’t notice when they were both finally nearly flush with his own plating.  Air was being drawn in great intakes, trying to cool his superheated frame down, and he felt like everything about him was going to burst.  He was overfull everywhere and it was a distinct feeling he wasn’t sure he liked at the moment.

Suddenly Mirage was at his helm, mouth firm and unyielding as a glossa pushed into Hound’s mouth.  He brought a hand up and wrapped it around the back of a white neck, pushing them closer together as his hips started rocking in hard tempo to Beachcomber’s thrusts.

Mouths nipped his plating, his protoform, and hands smoothed over his belly.  He was lost in pleasure/pain/pleasure and every sensor he had was ultra-sensitive.  Bumblebee, or at least he thought it was Bumblebee, was mouthing and licking condensation that had collected on the curve of his protoform where it jutted from his body.  Mirage was still held in place, fierce kisses never stopping or lessening in intensity, by Hound’s own hands.  Huffer was… Oh.  Huffer was behind Beachcomber, adding a little extra power to each thrust so that everyone, the whole berth was rocking back and forth.

Hound had often been the focus of their attentions, but the near frantic pace and atmosphere had him overwhelmed.  He broke off from Mirage, keening as his body clamped down in was both overload and contraction so fiercely that it forced Beachcomber and Cliffjumper out.  Huffer only just saved them from falling to the floor as Hound’s body spasmed and jerked.

It lasted longer than anyone thought it should have, and Ratchet moved from his position against the wall to check Hound out.  One hand went into the already stretched valve and felt along the opening to the gestational chamber before he gave them a grin.

“Good enough bots!  Let’s get him squatting, looks like it’s finally coming out!”

****0.o****

Hound was nearly in recharge by the time they made it back to his room.  After a night in medbay just to make sure everything was alright Ratchet had released them with instructions for Hound to rest and a huge grin. 

Cliffjumper had insisted he be the one to carry the sparkling back, in the presence of turbopuppy optics no one pretended to understand, and was currently cooing his spark out to the little bit.

A sigh-like vent escaped him.  His ridiculous, adorable, insane family was here, together with their sparkling.  It was almost peaceful.

“Cliffjumper, you can’t hog the sparkling!  I want to hold him too!”

“If you think for one ASTROSECOND that I’m going to just hand him over until my time is up you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Are we really going there?  Setting up a schedule so that we each get _equal_ time with him?”

“Seriously guys?  Really?  You can’t even keep it together for a whole day?”

“Primus!  Let’s just go ahead and part him out, then we can each have a piece to hold all the time to keep us happy!”

“Say something like that again and I’m gonna make sure you can’t move for a loooong time pal!”

“Uncalled for, really.  Can’t we all just act like the MATURE mechs we are here?”

Mirage had snatched up the sparkling from an arguing Cliffjumper and moved over to place him on Hound’s chest before sitting and maneuvering the scout’s helm into his own lap.  He leaned down and rubbed their noses together, hand stroking the sparkling’s back, and placed a gentle kiss to slack lip plates.

“Sleep Hound.  We’ll all be here when you wake.”

A snort.  “Primus save me then.”  Before he placed a hand over Mirage’s on the sparkling and shut down into recharge.


End file.
